say you love me —
by melmel12129
Summary: — and I'll say it too. —hitsugayaxmatsumoto


**I'm not proud of this one. Posting just for fun.**

**This is my first Bleach fanfic so I'm not sure if I nailed Matsumoto's character correctly at all. Criticism would help. Thanks.**

**Enjoy**

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Sometimes she liked to think he cared for her most.

It was just a mindless fantasy, but it kept her smiling – and that was the most important part. She'd always been known to keep up her image, her reputation. She'd worked so hard to build it. To let it fall back down again wasn't allowed.

For anyone that broke it, that wasn't allowed either.

The first man she loved made that mistake. Honestly she could say it was her fault: his strange grin and slitted blue eyes, and the way he came home with blood on his face and scrapes on his knuckles. But he was the one who had first loved her, too. She just believed with every single night of bandages and alcohol that he still loved her. Maybe it wasn't right to judge him when he was so different a person than the one that first found her in the slums – wasn't that boy with the persimmons anymore – just another one of the secretive boyfriends that kept things from you. How else could she explain the tingle in her fingers and the feeling in her heart? How could she figure out why she'd begin to sweat in anticipation when the doorbell rang (even late at night with the smell of the bar wafting off of him in waves), or when he would kiss her and her heart would pound so loudly she thought that maybe the sun that would rise only four hours later might hear her. Sometimes she didn't want to love him. She wanted to find someone else who would really love her and not pretend, but accepting the fact that she wasn't loved meant over four years of wasted life and a shattered heart – both of which she didn't want, ever. She would always love him, there was no denying that (maybe "always" was too long a time).

When she met him, he was the one. He was the "perfect" women talked about on dating shows and the "mystery" her heart secretly raced for. He was the person who'd taught her to be herself. In essence, he was a part of her, because he'd formed and molded her personality from that shivering girl with the hollow cheeks and protruding hipbones into this confident party girl with the looks to match. She never thanked him – she had a feeling he wouldn't like it even if she thanked him, cause you know – he never once asked for it. It seemed so natural to him (like, of course he'd help a random girl he didn't know) (of course he'd love her too) that maybe she thought that this was what he did and he wouldn't appreciate the thanks anyways. Maybe he never really meant anything he said, and that's why he didn't want thanks for something he didn't really do.

Somewhere in the middle of those four years he began changing. By the time one year passed from then, she knew he was in a gang, fighting out there to save his own life, or maybe hers. She pretended not to know, because she still wanted to love him. No matter what kind of crimes he committed, she always remembered him as the one who saved her – she would always. Being warned about this type of situation just wasn't the same as being in one. It's easy to say, "Don't worry. I won't," when it's not happening, but when it did, it seemed like she was digging herself a deeper hole every day. It was so much easier to play make-believe, and she was the master of it. Along the way, he'd taught her to mask her face and hide her discomfort. He didn't intend to, but she didn't intend to show that she felt uncomfortable around him. She didn't want him to leave her or realize that she knew everything (from the fistfights to the slurred words and alcohol on his breath) because no matter what, she wanted to stay with him.

It was stupid of her.

For some, their dreams were their life. For some, they never existed. For her, they cracked before she could fulfill them. How could she dream of living a life with him? Even with his intelligent mind, he wouldn't get far in life. He was in a gang. He couldn't get out again. Ignoring the fact that all the alcohol may have dulled his mind (which she was sure wasn't dulled at all – his sharp blue eyes glinted as keenly as ever), he hadn't even gone to college. At the beginning she planned a lifetime with him – up to how many kids and their names, even their wedding date and where it was going to be. She was so happy – so lost in her own mind she couldn't even realize that he'd neither agreed nor disagreed to her plans.

He always whispered I love you like it was nothing – like it was maybe just a simple sentence said then forgotten, spoken with conviction but with no meaning. She always whispered it back, but she wasn't sure if he knew that they grew faker as the years went by. He probably didn't care much anyways. As the three year mark came and passed, and he missed the dinner she'd cooked for him that day, she began drifting from him.

The first day he came home with crazed eyes and lipstick stains was the catalyst. It was no longer easy to accept her life with him as the hard proof came back that he didn't love him anymore. She asked him where the bright pink stains had come from and his only answer was, "Dontcha worry Ran-chan. I don' fool 'round." She wasn't sure she believed him.

She wasn't sure of a lot of things.

It was hard to pretend at work too, but she thought of it like a game. Pretend that you're living a life that's not yours and win a prize. She didn't know if she fooled anyone but no one commented so she never said anything about it. Sometimes she thought her boss could stare straight through her. It wasn't like they were poor - they'd just never bothered to look for a bigger apartment (in crowded down-town Tokyo) to live in. She was fine with it so she settled in her ratty, dirty, and small apartment. Her boss was right up there behind the president of the largest company in Tokyo and she was right there below him. He looked young and but nowhere near childish. He was that short lithe type that had broad shoulders and a slender body and below-waist. She wouldn't admit it (cause her boyfriend was the exact opposite) but she was secretly a sucker for those types.

He had icy white hair and stood up in tufts (gelled maybe?), with a few clumps hanging over his left eye attractively. When he walked his bangs swished and she found herself tracking their movement. His eyes were a startling green-blue-turquoise and too many times seemed to peer right through her. She often slacked off at work but her boss never fired her or asked why: after all sometimes she came up with genius solutions and she was a good "ambassador" type person to connect with other companies. Her facade made for great people work - she even was asked to do a commercial for a rival company - which of course, she said no to. Without a doubt she was loyal to her boss first. Maybe even outside of work. If he asked her to leave her boyfriend, maybe she would. She had great respect for him - he did all the work she didn't do (around all of her work), covered for her nap times at work, never annoyed anyone, and secretly did everything for everyone behind the scenes.

One time she asked for a vending machine in the office instead of in the hall so she didn't have to walk as far, and her boss stared straight at her and didn't say anything, with a kind of "are you serious?" look on his face. She thought he'd forgotten all about it and even dismissed it, but by the next day, there it was: a new vending machine installed in the office.

He's the kinda guy she'd like to date, honestly. But she can't leave_ him_. He is her life.

Ichimaru Gin is the world to her and she won't let it shatter that easily.

But if she knows anything, it's that Hitsugaya Toshiro is the hardest worker she's ever seen.

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She almost feels guilty when she kisses her boss at the beginning of the fifth year.

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She feels guilty when it's been going for the entire sixth year too.

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Gin leaves her on the seventh and she breaks.

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The eighth year Hitsugaya builds her back up again.

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She finds solace in the green eyes that haunts her days and hates the blue that haunts her nights.

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**If you can't tell, it's a HitsuMatsu story, since that's my fav. pairing. I honestly dislike Hinamori. I used to dislike Ichimaru, but no longer - his character is interesting and I have some sort of disgust-respect relationship with that.**

**Anyways, drop a review if you've got the time.**

**melmel12129**


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